


Out In the Cold

by dancingdragon3



Series: Tarnished Bits of Gold [1]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingdragon3/pseuds/dancingdragon3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place immediately after Rebels 301x05 "The Honorable Ones." When Kallus gets home, he wonders if he made the wrong choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out In the Cold

As soon as he boarded the cruiser, he suspected his choice had been the wrong one. The familiar chill in the cavernous hangar, the faint, echoing click-shuffle of his heels, the murmur and beep of man and droid, all settled in his heart like frozen, titanium spikes. He shivered, but kept on trudging till he came to his quarters. 

He hadn’t been cold on that moon for a long while. 

“At least we’ve got this to keep us warm,” Zeb had said of the strange, glowing rock.

That had been the first time they exchanged curious, testing glances. Though he’d been admiring the Lasat’s physique since he started trying to climb the walls. So determined and resilient. He’d wondered how those huge, impossibly strong hands would feel on his body. Holding, clenching. The slight scrape of sharp claw. 

He laid down on his single cot, and gingerly spread his legs. Palming himself lightly, he stared at the chunk of moon still held securely in his other hand. The bed was cold and hard, not unlike that cave floor. The rock still glowed as warm and gold as Lasat eyes. 

Garazeb Orrelios had been so hot, he should have given off steam in the chilly air. Nothing but hot, hard muscle, and yes, fur. But, by the time their clothes had come off, he hadn’t cared. They were brother soldiers. They’d fought and protected each other. Saved each other. Might die together. Alone on that moon, that was all that mattered. Not what was in their cells or on their skin. 

Fleeting camaraderie with near strangers was something he’d grown used to, especially the higher he rose in the ranks. Kindness, tenderness, laughter...those had been new. 

“Hey, easy,” Zeb said in that lazy, twangy growl. “Don’t wanna make your leg worse. Let me get that for you.” 

That the lopsided smile held a little fang, had made his heart beat faster, and the pants he was struggling with even more stubborn. Those big paws made quick but gentle work of the binds bracing the bo-rifle to his leg. Zeb prayerfully closed his eyes for a second as he set it aside.

He hoped the older warrior thought his wince was from physical pain. If there was an afterlife of punishment, he was definitely headed there for lying about how he got that weapon. Everything else had been the truth, though. What he said about the massacre, and the moans and whimpers Zeb drew from him not long after.

“You’ve been with a human before.” 

The fur was damp and softer. It probably came in handy on board a star cruiser. He liked the ruffling sensation against his skin, leaning heavier against his warm companion to get more. His bad leg draped over a striped thigh. He stroked through short, neck fur, curled one long side burn around a finger, and tugged for his answer. Why had he been so surprised? When had he become such a...

“A few,” Zeb grunted, opening his eyes. “Didn’t know the men could be so much more fun,” he winked. 

A clawed hand smacked his ass, shooting a thrill that landed in his groin. The laughter also caught him by surprise, coming up from deep inside, to boom around the cave. It felt like something had escaped with it, leaving his chest free and open. And his stomach hadn’t been so relaxed since the Inquisitor took those heads off right in front of him. 

“Fun, yes.” His chuckles tapered off, but that big, textured hand had started massaging. 

The old Inquisitor was dead. Hopefully, his successors soon would be as well, at said hand of present company. Yet, here he was, alive. Yellow gaze, shining and eager, held his own, heating him up inside, stealing his breath. He licked his lips, relishing the unfamiliar taste of rebellion.

“Let’s have some more of that, shall we?” He closed the distance between them with a kiss so urgent it was sloppy, betraying his need to blot out the darkness of who and what they were outside. 

The offer to go with the Lasat had been the biggest shock of all. Not that he believed for a second that the Ghost crew wouldn’t turn him over to whatever torture team the Rebels had come up with. It’s wasn’t as though Zeb had been offering...

"Don't get killed out there. I'd hate to miss our rematch."

Zeb was blocked from view by the rock face, but something in his voice gave him pause. Made him tremble and choke. He had been hiding from more than enemies then, and felt like a coward when he watched The Ghost ascend without him.

But, this was his life. The only one he'd ever wanted. He’d worked too hard to end up a prisoner of war...or a traitor. Dreams disappeared when you woke for a reason. Especially dreams of flying into a maelstrom, never to be seen again. 

He heaved a sigh, tightening all over, before willing himself to relax deeper into his bunk. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in...

Something was wrong.

He opened his eyes to realize that the rock’s glow had started to fade. It wasn’t as warm, either.

"No!" He sat up fast, cradling it in his palms, ignoring the sudden pain in his leg. 

“No, no, please, don’t.”

He touched, hesitantly at first, then more until he was petting the cursed thing, willing it to stay alive, but it was no use. The light and heat continued to die. Panic sent his heart into his throat. It’s pounding filled his world as his vision blurred. 

“Please,” he whispered, gut twisting tighter than ever. 

It was all he had to remember... 

The rock pulsed brighter, once, twice. Gave it's last gasp of energy on the third. As the glow faded completely, a tear splashed the rough, grey surface.


End file.
